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A Walking Lobster

knew that the Middle East is hot, but jeez, can someone upstairs not alter the thermostat?

Don’t they know the constant daily struggle that I’m facing as my upper lip reenacts a salty waterslide, eradicating all signs of my artistically placed foundation?

I don’t know about you, but I am finding that I am eternally cradling talc and dry shampoo as a necessity to stop flat-fringe syndrome.

Factor 50 sunscreen adorns every part of me – Mammy Green would be so proud! The coconut smell evokes nostalgic memories of visiting the English seaside where I would be lathered in the stuff. However, Bahrain doesn’t have the donkey rides that I had become accustomed to as a child or even the fish and chips for that matter.

I’m inundated with remarks concerns on a daily basis that I’m burnt and further put through the Spanish inquisition as to why I go so red? Rather racist if you ask me…

I find myself in constant conflict with my wardrobe also. Do I wear tights and fear overheating? Or worse, do I go without tights? Albeit, with the caveat of having to shave my legs so as not to be shunned from society.

I find myself in constant conflict with my wardrobe also. Do I wear tights and fear overheating? Or worse, do I go without tights? Albeit, with the caveat of having to shave my legs so as not to be shunned from society.

Now, how do I battle against my love/hate relationship with air conditioning? This can be in the house, supermarket or indeed the car but it does ‘anarf get on my chest no matter which way I try to tweak it. To put it simply, I am always cold and I’m a self-proclaimed ‘nanna at heart’ who needs to be forever snug. When I’m complaining about the temperature it’s probably enough to bring on earache to innocent bystanders in a 10 mile radius.

A few years ago I holidayed in Kos only to be molested by a multitude of mosquito bites. This may have been a comical story to tell the future grandchildren had it not have been for the fact that my face ballooned up to something reminiscent of an elephant. This required an emergency cortisone injection directly in my bum-cheek, c’est la vie!

Why am I holding on to this particular memory and how is this relevant to my life in Bahrain? Well, I thought you’d never ask! I have slowly but surely been eaten alive by such pests.  However, strangely enough they have predominately chosen my left leg to have a feast on.  Left for love and all that jazz… The antihistamines seem to be keeping any further reaction at bay. Phewf!

So, if you see some ginger-haired English rose hiding in the shadows embracing her inner vampire, please spare a thought, or, at the very least one of those lovely shaded umbrellas.

jayne

Jayne Green is a 20-something coffee connoisseur who can inject a pun into any social situation. We are very lucky to have her as our Editor and therefore she can be contacted via editorial1@arabianmagazines.com. @vintagejayne

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